• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 09

Clucking off, stage left

I wasn’t hatched to live with these clowns and a kettle masquerading as another chicken. I’d rather have ended life as a boiled egg, if I’m honest. That pretend accordion’s made of cardboard he nicked from my cage. Him on the left never played a guitar in his life – his dancing teacher’s been using it for weeks to try and get him to learn how to hold a dance partner. I think that’s their parents celebrating going down with the ship – who can blame them? Gets them out of eating the picnic too. Did no-one think to mention you have to crush grapes before you bottle them? Anyway, before the clouds finally shove the sun down and out of the picture, I’m clucking off, stage left.
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